


Poem: Rath Dinen

by Elfriend



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Poetry, Post-War of the Ring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-26
Updated: 2015-06-26
Packaged: 2018-04-06 08:44:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4215266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elfriend/pseuds/Elfriend
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elessar observes Faramir at the tombs of the Stewards after the WotR</p>
            </blockquote>





	Poem: Rath Dinen

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the HASA Transition Team: This story was originally archived at [HASA](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Henneth_Ann%C3%BBn_Story_Archive), which closed in February 2015. To preserve the archive, we began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in February 2015. We posted announcements about the move, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this author, please contact The HASA Transition Team using the e-mail address on the [HASA collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/hasa/profile).

**Rath Dinen**

Stood I to greet the stars first light,  
On the knife-edge at the eve of night,  
When I did spy his solemn stride,  
Toward the street where the dead abide.  
His expression pensive, his head he bent,  
But shoulders straight and tears unspent.  
He spied me not in twilight's embrace,  
While I admired his unwavering grace.  
In him the blood of Numenor bold,  
Runs true as in the times of old.  
And I am proud to name him friend,  
This gentle Prince of fair Ithilien.  
He reached the Silent Street and passed,  
To the ruined hall where his fathers rest.  
Seldom yield I to inquisitive urge,  
And yet I wondered at his purpose.  
So followed I, noiseless, unheeded,  
Into the Hallows as last light receded.  
I found him there at the broken door,  
To the crumbled hall of Steward lore.  
He slowly lowered to bended knee,  
Touching fist to heart in fealty.  
And before my eyes the gray night lifted,  
And with a vision I was gifted.  
A spectrous light around him wreathed,  
Then, "Hail my son," the vision breathed.  
A ghostly hand laid on living brow,  
And he, too seemed aware of it now,  
For his breath rushed in, but did not expire,  
And he shuddered at this brush of power.  
Then with peaceful smile the dazzling shade,  
Bowed to me, and began to fade.  
I sensed some healing had been done,  
For Ecthelion's noble son,  
And for the prince there kneeling, too,  
For his shoulders squared anew.  
And rising from this death filled place,  
He turned and met my awestruck face.  
Without surprise he acknowledged my right,  
Then spoke he softly into the night.  
"That you are here my lord, tis fitting,  
This moment witnessed by the King,  
For the Steward's honor you preserved,  
And my father's love you have observed,  
His soul redeemed from its ignoble demise,  
Thus freed is Denethor, valiant and wise."


End file.
